


Crimson

by Papayaaple



Category: Tales of Vesperia
Genre: Angst, Everyone is here although they're in the background, Hurt No Comfort, M/M, Sorry Yuri, had to do it to em
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-04-13
Updated: 2020-04-13
Packaged: 2021-03-02 02:53:34
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,096
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23627983
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Papayaaple/pseuds/Papayaaple
Summary: Unbetaed.
Relationships: Yuri Lowell/Flynn Scifo (Background)
Kudos: 10





	Crimson

**Author's Note:**

> Unbetaed.

As he lays in the ground, breath coming in desperate gasps, he wonders if anyone will miss him. When he looks down at himself the crimson red has travelled down and pools around him. It’s warm, almost toasty, compared to his own body. 

_Metal clangs against metal, sparks flying. There are three, four, too many to count, all converging on him. He fights, with his desperation slowly leaking through, flashy moves forgotten, blocking, repelling and striking._

_It isn’t enough._

_A glint of steel, a movement too late. It hits him like a punch, feels like all the air in his lungs is being forced out. The blade retreats, and so does his ability to stand. He stumbles, falling to his knees with an audible thump, but he doesn’t feel it. No, all he feels is the warmth trickling out of his body. Distantly, he thinks he should be worried, but he continues on, the grip on his sword tightening. Standing up, he swings at the last of them – somehow, and they topple over. And so does he._

_He gasps in air, large mouthfuls of it, but it isn’t enough, it doesn’t feel like enough. He lays down, hand pushing against the puncture in an attempt to stop the bleeding, but it flows like a river._

_“Shit,” he thinks, “After everything, something like this will be the end of me? What a way to go.”_

_The adrenaline starts to wear off, and the pain kicks in._

_If he had the energy he would groan, clutching at his wound. Now though, all he can do is lay down and try his best to breathe, gasping like he’s run around the lower quarter from top to bottom without a break. There’s a weird high-pitched sound coming from the wound; bubbles gurgling their way out of the hole, and that weird noise sounding whenever he inhales – almost as if it’s taking in the air. He giggles a little hysterically._

_“Damn. That’s not good.” He winces, giggles dying down quickly as the breathlessness worsens._

_As his vision starts to fuzz around the edges, he thinks of them._

Estelle, ever effervescent – though there are shadows in her eyes where there weren’t before the _incident_ (He blames himself). She comes by semi-frequently, retelling all the tales she has of her and Rita in Halure, how the tree is blooming, and how _“Yuri! You should visit sometime. You can’t keep on lazing around here doing nothing when there are no jobs for the guild!”_

Karol, who’s now taking the role of **“boss"** seriously, sifting through requests and jobs and suggesting which members to send out for each. Brave Vesperia has grown. _His inner optimist hopes that in the years to come, it’ll grow bigger and become one of the Master guilds, giving Karol the opportunity to shine._

Rita, still as prickly as ever, but less sharp around the edges, now with _Estelle_ staying with her. He hasn’t seen her in a long while, but Estelle’s stories are _more_ than enough to tell him he she’s doing. With the loss of blastia, she’s thrown herself into a new technology ruins have uncovered – he can’t remember what they called it, _fon something_? Estelle mentions that Rita would like him to visit, _“Not that she would say that herself,” Estelle whispers conspiratorially._

Judy, whose _smiles_ now seem to reach her eyes. She’s still a member of Brave Vesperia, helping out where she can on her own time, but in her downtime, she travels with Ba’ul, dropping by sporadically to gift souvenirs from around the globe. She gifted him **lingerie** , once. (Its actually comfortable, not that he’s actually worn it). She’s also took an interest in baking, asking him for recipes, and _exposes_ his sweet tooth every time she comes bearing the _goods_. 

Raven, somehow still spry even though he’s reaching the age where a **fall** can _break a bone_. He’s still as busy as ever, helping Harry ever since he stepped into the role of the Don a few years back. He’s also helping Brave Vesperia on the side-lines and sneaks them high profile jobs from time to time, and checks on Yuri through Estelle – though he never admits it, Yuri _knows_. He’s also gained a penchant for fishing, _somehow_. 

Repede, who’s growing old less gracefully than Raven. His strides have gotten less smooth, sleeping a little longer each day, breath coming in _harder_ after each run around the town. He knows Repede isn’t getting younger and _knows_ that his time will come soon, but he can’t help feeling melancholic. He isn’t sure whether Repede would like _mini-Repedes_ , but he’s tried his hand at being a wingman for Repede. (It didn’t work out. Repede didn’t talk to him for a month). Still though, he sees that Repede is enjoying life to his fullest, and intends on helping out his best bud wherever he can. 

_He never thought Repede would outlive **him**._

And Flynn. They still fight over the littlest things, and their ideals clash from time to time, but they _both_ know that the other will be there at the end of the day, when things have settled. Flynn is busier than _all_ of them combined, taking the reins of Commandant and ushering in new rules and regulations to tip the scales to balance the power of the common people and nobles. 

It’s a tough job, with _countless_ nobles outspokenly disagreeing with everything Flynn does, but it’s something _Yuri knows_ Flynn can manage. He sneaks into Flynn’s office from time to time, scaring him at first, but now a routine for both of them, and talks with (not gossip) Flynn over Brave Vesperia, the lower quarter, and things troubling Flynn. _(“Yuri, I know you’re worried about me, but you don’t have to be, I can manage.” “I didn’t say I was worried.”)_ Recently though, the talks have gotten _longer_ , tension in the air and gazes lingering for a _little_ too long. Yuri ignores it to the best of his ability, but he knows that _one day_ , one of them will voice it out. 

_He never ever thought that he wouldn’t live to see that day._

He lays now, on the ground, breath shallowing out, vision blurring at the edges and _slowly_ fading away, thinking about everything he _could_ have, _should_ have, and _would_ have done. It may be his imagination, but in the distance, he can hear the sound of metal clanking against metal, the sound of hooves against the ground, and the voices producing sounds of what _seems_ to be his name. 

The world goes black.

**Author's Note:**

> Angst? Would you like some angst in these trying times?
> 
> Come scream at me on Tumblr: @yuteria


End file.
